Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Micronesia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Camouflage,
Chris & Cosey,
Skarface,
Fear,
Mad Mike,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Lakeside,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Buckinghams,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Television Personalities,
Reagan Youth,
Sällskapet,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Chris Corsano,
Qualms,
the Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Maleditus Sound,
Malaria!,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tres Demented,
Faust,
Bill Wells,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Prince Buster,
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Cecil Taylor,
Suicide,
Byron Stingily,
Soul Sonic Force,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mr. Review,
The Move,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Skaos,
Theoretical Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Unwound,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.